Date: Tue, 19 Mar 2002 23:07:42 -0500
From: redwheels
Subject: gay male / historical / one-gentleman's-revelation
Publisher's Note: The following extraordinary document was
discovered by the late author's nephew in the process of
executing his uncle's Estate, and published by a sympathetic
man of the trade, who wishes to remain anonymous, for
private circulation and, hopefully, enhancing the historic
record of our young Nation.
One Gentleman's Revelation
Being a Brief Narrative Account of Love in the Greek
Tradition aboard the Schooner Michelle, in the Year of Our
Lord Eighteen Hundred and Twenty One
Authored by Mr. Stanford W. N_____, of New York, 1843
Before I spin this tale, allow me as a man of honor give
fair warning to sensitive readers, should this MS see the
light of day, about its unusual central theme. While I can
no longer place myself in the ranks of a pious and
well-ordered Society after what I have become, propriety
demands, in light of the potentially inflammatory content I
describe herein, a candid and plain introductory notice
regarding the nature of my topic; The fair season of my
youth when I joyfully discovered the divine bliss of sodomy.
Deeply felt by innumerable sojourners since antiquity on
this star-wandering Globe, the heartfelt Love of Man for Man
is a deeply rooted tree in the Forest of human nature whose
graceful leaves and abundant blossoms have gladdened and
sustained the hearts, season upon season, of those brave
souls, blessed by circumstance or destiny, with the good
fortune of knowing its luxurious shade and noble protection.
The adventure began on March 8th, 1821, at the port of
Boston. I had booked passage on the schooner Michelle, a
commercial vessel under the flag of France, for the purpose
of undertaking a sea-voyage to the Yucatan peninsula of
Mexico. Accompanying me was my bosom friend Mr. Justin
H_____, a fellow office-boy of the Chronicle. Our purpose
was to gain a securer foothold in the journalistic trade by
assisting Mr. S_____ in detailing the late events in our
neighbor's War of Independence.
One can readily imagine the thrill which permeated our
frames as we left the carriage and first beheld our
sea-going home. Both 24 years of age, we had seen little of
the world outside the beloved confines of eastern
Massachusetts. As we approached the proud ship, wreathed in
sunlit fog, our hearts and steps lightened as we reveled in
confident anticipation.
"Misters N_____ and H_____," said the uniformed steward,
"Cabin 4. Welcome aboard monseiurs."
To the sounds of fowl and swine emanating from crates being
loaded aboard by crane, we ascended the boarding-ramp,
carrying our shared chest of necessities.
"All passengers are requested to remain in quarters during
departure," said a friendly old crewman in accented English.
We made our way past the flurry of well-occupied deckhands
to the hatch and descended to the belly of the ship.
Finding the space tightly loaded with barrels and sacks of
grain, we were compelled to turn the black-painted chest
side-ways to permit maneuvering through the narrow passages.
"I quite like this!" said Justin with a ready smile as we
surveyed cabin 4. The porthole's sunlight streamed in to
the cozy space. It looked to be entirely empty as we placed
the chest down.
"Look, the desk folds out," I said, unlatching it from the
wall.
"This must be the bed," Justin said, hands at his waist.
The small bedframe was folded to the aft wall to save space
in day-time. It looked as if our traveling chest would have
to serve as furniture in addition to storage.
We heard a knock at the open door.
"Bonjour, monsieurs au mieux. I am Emanuel. Your wash
basin. Water barrels at the starboard forequarter. Ship's
head is aft, blue door. We shall be underway within the
hour, monsieurs. Aus revoirs!"
"Merci monsieur," I replied to the crewman's engaging smile.
He left us with the small white wash basin.
"You know French?" asked Justin, his slender body turning to
face me in his tailored light brown suit of clothes.
"About five words," I said with a growing smile. "I must be
more sophisticated than you." A large cart rumbled by
outside.
"Oh Stanford. Can you believe we're really here? We'll
soon leave winter to our Boston friends." He ran his
fingers back through his full, slightly wavy chestnut brown
hair.
My mind was increasingly preoccupied with the thought of
sharing a bed with him for such an extended duration. After
leaving my family home for Mrs. M____'s rooming house, I had
grown accustomed to nocturnal solitude.
"I just hope *our* friendship doesn't unravel in such...
intimate circumstances," I said looking about the tiny
cabin.
"Oh, I'm easy to live with. Just tell me if my habits
offend you." Finished with his polite reassurance, he
smiled again and looked upon me with his lively brown eyes.
"Agreed," I said, "and if I should make the slightest
bother, don't hesitate to correct me. Being a good traveler
is an essential skill if we hope to rise in the
profession... perhaps we can teach each other on the course
of the voyage."
"Well said."
o o o o o
A fortnight passed, taking with it all my prudish concerns
about being Justin's cabin-mate. Seeing the Michelle's
frothy wake, her proud sails, and the ever-present schools
of the common Atlantic flying-fish made the days at sea pass
more than pleasantly. The ever-changing sights and senses
of sea and weather overwhelmed my psyche, leading into
wave-rocked nights of uninterrupted sleep of a depth and
character I had never experienced on land. I had acquired a
small oceanic map from a Chronicle cartographer to chart our
progress, and the navigator, Monsieur Nicolle, was happy to
introduce me to his art. He also found a ready audience in
Justin and myself with his memories and impressions of
Napoleon before the successes and disasters of the Egyptian
campaign.
Justin took a deep breath of the fresh, cool sea air as we
leaned against the sunlit port rail. The white-flecked
Ocean washed beneath us, forty miles off-shore. Best of
friends, impossibly far from home, we looked into each
other's friendly faces again, not quite believing how well
the voyage was unfolding.
"You two. Want to go aloft, yes?" asked Emanuel.
Justin looked back my way with a positive expression. I
raised my eyebrows to confirm his enthusiasm. Emanuel led
us to the rigging, protecting us from falling over the side.
Not that we ever could, holding tight to the thick netting
for obvious reasons!
We climbed higher above the deck. My mind could not take in
the immensity of the Atlantic surrounding us. The wind grew
stronger as we ascended halfway up the mainmast.
"High enough for me!" I yelled through the gale.
"I'm going all the way!" replied Justin.
I watched him with concern as he confidently made his way
skyward.
"This is great!" he yelled down.
I looked down to see the ship, so small and beautiful from
this prospect. Feeling energized, I waved up to Justin and
resumed my ascent. His friendly face smiled upon me as I
steadily climbed to meet him. Four crewmen cheered heartily
as I reached the top. Justin climbed around the other side
to make room for me.
"Stanford! We made it!"
We swayed a good six feet with every pitch of the Michelle.
I would have been too cautious to perform this act of daring
alone, but Justin's good-natured pull of companionship made
it bearable. I clutched the line and took in the
all-encompassing spectacle... Dazzled by the
incomprehensible power, majesty, and *scale* of the Ocean, I
took a series of deep breaths to relax my racing heart. I
felt the warmth of Justin's hand on mine.
"For comfort," he said. I thanked him for his kind gesture.
I could only handle the height and motion for two minutes.
I descended slowly to safety.
"Stanford, what did you think?" asked Emanuel in the
droplet-filled breeze.
"Singular!" I said to his laugh.
"Now you are braver than I at 9 years old!", he said with a
smile. Justin waved down and resumed his survey of
infinity.
o o o o o
Justin and I shared a pipe in our cabin as the Michelle
refilled her water barrels in Norfolk. We leaned back
against the wall and sat side by side on the bed.
"The weather is definitely warmer, Stan."
"Hm." I took a long drag and handed the pipe to him. We
shared it to stretch his supply of matches. I exhaled
another turbulent blue column of smoke from my lips.
"I hear the tobacco is particularly fine in Havana. Should
be cheaper too," I said.
"Yep. Shall we give the Dutch a run for their money and go
into the trade?" he remarked with a small grin.
I laughed. "No... They've got it well covered."
Justin returned the pipe and leaned his head against my
shoulder.
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked in a friendly tone.
It was odd, but I didn't mind.
"Oh," he said with a breath, "I've just been feeling
homesick. With men all around, no one to touch."
"You really miss Annie?" I asked.
"Well, yes. Her affection anyway."
"Troubles?"
"You really need to hear this?", he asked.
"What else is there left to talk about?" I said.
Still leaning on me, he began;
"I... don't see Annie and I completing our courtship. Her
father doesn't approve of my trade. How little I've gotten
ahead by this age. The thought of another one of his
lectures on corn prices! My God, the man bores me!"
"But you *would* marry Annie if he wasn't in the picture?"
"Well, to tell you the truth... While I like her affection
and sweetness, I have yet to feel Cupid's arrow for her."
"Even after five months?" And Annie was so fair and gay!
"Oh, Stanford. You don't know her as I do. She sometimes
displays a disagreeble temper, and can easily go from hot to
cold over the slightest trifle."
"Hmm," I said. I had never before discussed such subjects
with another. I found Justin's touch more and more pleasant
as he continued;
"Oh, I might as well tell you. I released her of any
obligation to me two days before we left Boston... I didn't
want her to... pine for me when I knew I lacked the resolve
to maintain any pretense of a joint future..."
I finished my puff and handed the pipe to him.
"No no, you can finish it Stan," he said, gently pushing my
hand away. He shifted himself to lean closer. I gladly,
truthfully hereby reveal to the World the growing excitement
in my loins at his companionable pose that afternoon... The
first soft stirrings of homo-sexual attraction.
"And how have you fared in the arena of love?" he asked,
looking up to me.
"I... haven't fared at all. Ladies generally disregard me,
I'm afraid. I too lack the driving ambition to pursue
worldly fortune." I inhaled another smooth taste of tobacco
smoke.
"A boy kissed me once--", said Justin.
"What?!?", I said, laughing. He laughed too, still leaning
upon my blouse.
"And I liked it too... It was after a night of games in my
second year at Harvard. Robert C______ walked me home to my
room for his winnings. He said if I kissed him, he would
cancel the debt I owed from our turn at his card-table. Can
you believe he beat me out of seven dollars?"
"He told me it had to be a real kiss. It was a most unusual
way to pay him, but I saw no harm in it. One kiss was not
the same as out-and-out buggery after all."
I laughed to ease my growing tension. To hear him talk
about such things... I sat spellbound as he went on;
"Needless to say, it *was* a real kiss. On his lips. I
didn't know how long to hold it, so I let him make the move
to break away. When we went past fifteen seconds, I... was
beginning to enjoy it."
I closed my eyes and exhaled smoke from my nostrils,
picturing him kissing another young man. When the subject
of homo-sexuality was raised, if it all, it was purely in
terms of disgust and repudiation. But how could a kiss be
sinful? Justin's anecdote touched new places in my mind and
soul;
"We kept going for thirty seconds. Robert pulled away with
a smile, and I gave him a free five second kiss to seal our
contract..."
"You amaze me, Justin."
"Well, the... mood was there. We parted friends, and he
never breathed a word of our arrangement to my knowledge. I
don't know, there was something... slightly wonderful in
what we did. Perhaps it was so unexpected and forbidden.
At that age, I wanted to try nearly everything, so..."
"So why are you telling me?" I said with a small laugh.
"What's the harm? Far worse things appear in nearly every
issue of the Chronicle."
He had a point. I slowly finished our pipe, reassuring him
I didn't think poorly of him now. How could I have, after
feeling such fascinated interest myself?
o o o o o
The weather between Savannah and Nassau grew intolerably
hot. Justin and I had fully adjusted to the rhythms of
shipboard life, and were fully comfortable with one another.
As Justin read by lamplight from last week's Charleston
Gazette, I opened the port hole to the night air, hoping for
some relief from the sun's heat the Michelle had absorbed
through the preceding day. I sat back on the bedcovers.
"I hope it's breezy tomorrow," I said, "and the rest of the
way to Mexico."
Justin continued reading. The thought of his innocent kiss
with another man was rarely far from my mind. The audacious
fact of its reality triggered much speculation and
reflection regarding Love in general. I wondered how it
would feel if it happened to me. The taboo thought both
thrilled and unsettled me. Knowing *those lips*, so near
right then, willingly, freely shared a kiss of that nature
took my breath away on more than one occasion.
Justin folded up the paper, reached over me, and let it drop
to the floor. We both rested on our pillows, unable to
sleep.
After a brief interval, Justin arose.
"I can't take this!"
At that, he lifted his sleeping gown up and off. Like me,
he was completely bare underneath. He smiled to me as I
blinked and watched him fold up the cloth. His graceful
body's harmonious proportions were only matched by the
gentle glow his skin radiated beneath our oil lamp.
"Ahhhh!" he said, reclining back. He closed his eyes. I
surveyed him, taking pleasure in his stunning appearance and
willingness to be free and comfortable in my presence.
Following his example, knowing he couldn't possibly object,
I lifted away my gown as well.
"Better isn't it?" he asked, eyes still closed.
I reclined at his side. "Much better."
"Get the lamp will you?" he said.
I nakedly rose up, kneeling to trim the wick. My half-erect
penis directly above his face. I put out the light and lied
down again.
"Good night, Stanford."
"G'night, Justin."
He fell soundly asleep, leaving me wide awake, knowing this
turn of events, perfectly reasonable given our prevailing
climatic conditions, was nevertheless very new and strange.
I felt the Michelle gently rock as I stared up into the
pitch black room. A cool breeze began to caress my sweating
body. I soon slipped deeper into relaxation, drifting with
the motion of the sea into welcome sleep.
o o o o o
We slept au naturel for the next week and a half. By the
time we approached Havana, we felt comfortable enough to
lounge in our cabin the same way in the daytime. I cannot
tell you the joy we found in each other's company that first
day. A spirit of peace and relaxation pervaded my entire
being. I became totally aware of my body, especially my
formerly private zones. Vulnerable, every inch of skin
exposed, we naturally treated one another with impeccable
manners and heightened sensitivity and consideration.
"You know..." I said, "We could still sleep this way when it
gets cold."
He smiled. After a pause, he said, "Yes we could. It
*would* be more comfortable. We could even... keep each
other warm if the blanket was insufficient."
"I'm starting to adapt to the heat," I said.
"Me too. It's not so bad now."
I kneeled up to see the first glimpse of the Cuban coast
slide into view.
"We're almost there," I said. Justin rose up to look. Our
arms touched as we took turns peering through the small
circle of glass.
"Nobody knows we're naked in here!" he whispered as a
northbound cutter passed us.
I felt so light, giggling with Justin as we saw more ships
and buildings.
"Why do people wear clothes at all?" I asked.
"I have no idea," he said. We shared another look and
smile, keeping eye contact until we laughed again.
o o o o o
We heard the anchor chains unwind as we slowed.
"Why aren't we docking?" I asked Justin.
"Havana's known for rats, and the captain probably can't
risk his cargo."
We dressed quickly, after bumping our naked bodies together
a few times reaching into our traveling chest. We helped
row the jolly-boat in and were cleared at the port master's
office. Justin and I shopped for tobacco and matches. The
gaily colored marketplace was thronged with Cubans and
sailors from all corners of the world bartering for food,
drink, gunpowder, and trinkets. It was nothing like the
cold, proper atmosphere of Boston.
We only had two hours, so we sampled the refreshingly
different local foods while strolling the well-maintained
streets. The tropical flora, elegant Spanish architecture,
and shaded arcades impressed and charmed us with their
beauty. We wished we could linger and discover more about
this friendly island.
o o o o o
The waters we sailed in amazed us with their vivid and
intense blue coloration. Justin and I watched a pod of
smiling dolphins play and leap ahead of the Michelle's bow.
The way they forced their rounded heads through the rushing
foam was hypnotic.
The crew had picked up fresh supplies from Havana, and the
chef was preparing another fantastic meal. With a look,
Justin invited me up the mainmast again. As the weather was
considerably calmer, I readily followed him over the
rigging. We felt like commanders of this dreamship from up
on high. The fully saturated (in painter's terms) blue
water and blinding white foam swirled around the Michelle's
body. I enjoyed the four foot swaying rhythm this time,
especially in such a fair, warm breeze. The men below sang
bawdy shanties in French.
"I wish we could be in Boston now!", I yelled.
Justin bent down his head in laughter. I realized this
sublime moment was a high point of my, and our, existence.
We felt fine in our lofty perch, so we stayed to watch the
sun go down in a glorious panorama of blazing orange clouds,
shimmering gold rays, garish pink reflections, subdued
yellow skies, and deepening serene royal purple overhead,
scattered with the brightest twenty stars of evening. The
crew called us down for dinner, which was spectacularly
fresh and delicious.
o o o o o
We undressed in excellent spirits that evening in our cabin.
We hadn't worn our night gowns at all since our first naked
night. I was free to look upon Justin's lovely body, as he
was free to examine mine. We folded down the bed and lied
down, tired after a long day, but energized by the beauties
we had beheld.
I turned on my side to talk with Justin. We had only talked
lying face up before.
"Justin?"
"Yes?" He looked over, saw me, and turned his body to face
me.
"What a day this has been."
"Mm hmm." He looked down shyly.
"I'm so thankful for your companionship. I couldn't imagine
a better time with anyone else."
"You've been a flawless friend too," he said, eyes
twinkling. His stubbled face looked so beautiful in the
golden lamp light.
"There's been something I've wanted to ask of you."
"Proceed."
I took a breath. "Can I kiss you?"
Justin closed his eyes and smiled. A soft breath. He
looked up.
"I don't see why not."
I lifted my head from my pillow and leaned in, kissing my
lips to his briefly. I drew back, happy and smiling.
Justin's gaze met mine. "You call that a kiss?" We both
breathed deeply. I felt so alive with him. My penis was
engorging too.
"Can I show you what a kiss is?" he asked.
"Yes. Please do."
Justin rose slightly and moved his body on top of mine. He
pressed my shoulders to the pillow. Looked into my face. I
felt him press down on my groin. His weight and strength
felt great atop me.
Slowly, Justin lowered and tilted his head to kiss me. Ever
so gently, his moist lips softly met mine. We both closed
our eyes, luxuriating in this new game. Naturally, I
embraced him and drew him closer. We shared kiss after kiss
after kiss, rubbing our softly stubbled cheeks together like
tigers as our passion rose.
Justin's wet lips kissed mine one last time, then he jumped
off to lie back on his pillow. He was grinning, fully
enraptured by our innocent love play. I turned to face him,
glancing down to notice his penis totally erect.
I kissed him, then got on top, our warm bodies touching
intimately. Our wonder-filled eyes were inches apart. I
softly caressed his hair and forehead.
"Thank you for teaching me that, Jus."
I led him into a new round of soft, tender kisses. Neither
of us had any reason to stop. I blinked my eyes slowly, not
wanting to rush through this enchanting hour of my soul's
true birth.
"This... All of this feels so good!" I told him.
He hugged me and turned us so we could hold each other, side
to side.
"You don't want to stop?" he asked, his eyes so full of good
will, our lengthening gazes building a bridge of
understanding beyond words.
"Never."
Thus we spent the better part of three hours holding,
caressing, and kissing one another. Our love play delighted
my soul in a way I never dreamed possible. We were so
independent and free, hidden away from the world in our
quiet nest of comfort and intimacy. How I adored him. I
secretly loved how it felt for our penises to brush and
squeeze against our shared bodies. The way his soft hair
yielded to my fingertips as I caressed his legs filled my
soul with tranquillity and wonder. Eventually we found the
most comfortable position, I holding him from behind, our
lithe bodies matched like spoons in a drawer. Touched by
love and so exceedingly happy, we fell into the oblivion of
sleep, swaying in Michelle's warm water cradle.
o o o o o
The average reader would expect a long philosophical
treatise on my multitudinous reactions to the foregoing
events. The blissful situation I found myself in with
Justin required no weighty analysis or detailed
ratiocination. I was simply happy. Happy to know the joy
of his softly stubbled cheek 'gainst mine. Happy to hold
and be held by him, our strong arms at last put to their
best purpose. Happy knowing our future held the same joys
we had tasted the night our souls began to merge.
o o o o o
We arrived in Cancun to the eager joy of the Michelle's
customers. We said our good-byes to Emanuel, Monsieur
Nicolle, and the various crew. Mr. S______ led us quickly
to a cantina to find out the latest news regarding the War.
The fighting was largely over, and the Spanish viceroy was
rumored to be preparing his ship for a diplomatic voyage to
formally end hostilities. Work on the "Treaty of Cordoba",
granting independence to Mexico, was quietly beginning in
elite circles. We gathered information from revolutionary
leaders and common soldiers for our reports. We visited the
jailed remnants of loyal Spanish to assess their outlook.
It appeared we were too late for the real action.
Having several days between word of new assignments, Mr.
S______ permitted Justin and me to explore the surrounding
countryside. We walked several miles south of Cancun, past
three widely spaced fishing villages. We marveled at the
expanse of shining white sands which gently sloped into the
turquoise waters of the Caribbean sea. Having no company
save palm trees, various sea birds, and the occasional
playful dolphin, I felt free to walk with him hand in hand.
After shaking sand from our boots for the third time, we
resolved to walk barefoot.
"I'm falling in love with you, Justin."
Justin looked over with a peaceful grin. He nodded.
We aimlessly walked through the leafy paradise of dunes and
surf, gently kicking up hot sand and pausing for relief in
the cool shade of our palm trees. We had not seen another
soul or sign of humanity for several hours. As we sat
beneath a tall palm, looking out at the clear, aquamarine
waters of the inviting sea, I had an idea to swim.
Standing up, I removed my shirt. My pants and underclothes.
Justin watched me bare myself to the open World. I touched
him on the shoulder, then ran through the sun and wind to
join the celestial waters. I realized true freedom, feeling
like a human being for the first time as my rapid footsteps
dug into the soft sand, all of nature's Elements wearing a
gentle aspect of benevolence for me, naked me, to fully
appreciate.
I immersed myself in the clear, sparkling waters. Floating
in the heat, I invited Justin in. He slowly, carefully
disrobed, his manly body looking so fair in the palm's
shade. I felt time's pace slacken as he ran into the
sunlight towards me, his excited penis waving in the wind.
I bounced lightly from foot to foot in the gentle surf as he
swam to join me. His hands came to my shoulders as mine
touched his narrow waist. We held each other, the water
playfully trying to push us out of balance.
"Stanford, I love you!" he said.
We held one another tightly to seal our bond. Our eyes
sparkled in the crystal serenity of the living Sea as we
parted. We allowed ourselves to glance down and see our
pale bodies and long penises in the endlessly changing
reflections of underwater light. We marveled at how
beautiful God had made us.
We swam and played, splashing and chasing above the rippling
white sands. Justin's hands mischievously grabbed on and
stroked my uncircumcised penis up and down. His magic touch
inspired me to do the same for him. After five minutes of
chasing, catching, and escaping, we joined up to bring
ourselves fully alive with homo-sexual pleasures.
Justin held me from behind, kissing my glistening shoulders
as he reached his right hand around to masturbate my seagirt
penis. I surrendered to his loving ways, feeling perfectly
in tune with the cosmic mysteries of life, heaven, earth,
and ocean as my pleasure built, higher and higher, into a
passionate wave of exaltation.
I recovered from my orgasmic climax to join Justin in a
brief series of circling hugs. My hands happily held and
explored his soft bare behind as we rose and fell in the
hissing foam. I stood firmly to guide Justin's back to me.
I masturbated his sensitive penis gently and slowly, kissing
the side of his face and feeling his nipples with my left
hand. I rocked him, shifting my weight from side to side,
keeping a steady pace of squeezing, stroking pleasure. His
soft foreskin moved beautifully down, around, and up his
large curving penis. The fingers of my hand fit his
orgasmic rod perfectly.
After his shuddering orgasmic convulsions, I held him
loosely, letting the surging sea float him as his gasps
returned to equilibrium. We proceeded to shallower water
and sat to rest, letting the endless marching waves wash and
curl over us. Cleaned by the surf and refreshed by our
deeply exercised lungs, we repaired, legs pleasantly
tingling and weak, to our station on the beach.
Not a soul had observed our orgasmic flight. My sensuality
was reaching, striving, bursting to take in the endless
succession of perfect experiences ever flooding in from our
shared Universe of sky, sea, and sand. After we had been
sitting in the shady sand a while, Justin lied back, then
turned toward me.
In a rush of poetic beauty, I saw the powdery white sand,
perfectly coating his lovely curves, as he moved his
exquisite body, every precious freckle and bleached body
hair visible in precise detail, to a
pose more astonishingly ravishing than any painter ever
imagined. My Justin, lovely and beautiful in Paradise!
The delicate sand clung and fell from our love-spent bodies
as the sun and wind dried us. I massaged Justin's neck and
shoulders as day passed into twilight. We peeled and fed
bananas to one another, enjoying the soft, curving cylinders
sliding betwixt or soft lips.
The breeze grew cooler as night fell. Stars and planets
appeared and shined down upon the phosphorescent sea.
Closely embracing for warmth, we slept on moonlit sand, our
souls united in compassionate devotion.
o o o o o
The rapturous love we shared grew deeper through the months
and years following our voyage aboard the Michelle. We
lived discretely in New York City, finding our talents and
ourselves welcome in the literary and artistic worlds of
that broad-minded metropolis of vitality and culture. We
had many occasions to share insights and fellowship with
other sodomites, many of high rank and prominence whose
names, if revealed in this context, would shake the
foundations of our blessed Republic. Let me assuage any
public concerns by expressing my confidence in the wisdom
and leadership of these caring aristrocrats, gentlemen of
the highest caliber.
I close by briefly detailing my present circumstances, and
how they pertain to the issuance of this singular narrative.
Beset by means of a paralytic Stroke two months ago, I felt
it necessary, before my natural life concluded, to shed
light on the gift of homo-sexual love, from a knowledgeable
perspective free from guilt or regrets. Thus I leave this
admittedly less than sufficient fragment of literature for
future souls, living and traveling on the hidden roads
Justin and I embarked upon. May the purity of love find
thee, and be a source of joy all thy days.
_____________________________________________________________________
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